


Cold One

by bent_over_moonbeams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Beer, F/M, Object Insertion, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 13:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17868428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bent_over_moonbeams/pseuds/bent_over_moonbeams
Summary: Jo's thought this out, every detail. Except when she played it out in her head, she always looked right at John while she did it.





	Cold One

Jo’s hands are shaking. She’d thought this out, every detail, but she wouldn’t’ve imagined she’d be this nervous when they got down to it. 

But the Roadhouse is full tonight, noisy with good-natured drunkenness, and both of her parents are  _ right there _ , totally unaware of how John’s eyes have been straying down Jo’s shirt and how Jo’s gone commando and got wet-thighed in anticipation of that precise look. 

They’re sending her to bed, Dad ruffling her hair and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Mom ordering her not to forget to brush. Then they’re out of the backroom to see to their customers, leaving John alone with her for the first time tonight. 

He doesn’t say anything. He always does that, waits for her to say something, but when he notices her shaking, he grins.

“Breathe, Jo-honey.”

Then he’s kissing her tongue-first because they both know they don’t have too long before Jo’s very sober parents realize that he didn’t walk out right behind them. Then it’s over and John’s somehow had a clear enough head to grab a beer off the counter behind her the way Jo knew he would, was planning on it.

He gets the cap off and takes a swig, still grinning. Jo snatches the bottle out of his hand before she can overthink it. She takes a drink and fights making a face and the taste she still hates. Her hands are steady now and it looks like she actually managed to surprise John.

Jo’s quick as she hikes up her skirt and forces the mouth of the cold bottle into herself. She can’t get very far down the neck and she can’t meet John’s gaze even though she was looking right at him every time she imagined doing this.

His mouth is hanging open when Jo works the bottle back out and hands it over, a string of slick suspended across the opening and enough of a shine around the rim to be visible in the low light. 

He takes it automatically, doesn’t even take a drink, just swallows hard.

It’s Jo’s turn to comfort. She touches his arm and he almost-startles.

“We still on for tomorrow night?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Jo-honey.”

She turns like she’s going to go upstairs to bed, but stays long enough to see him suck at the opening of the bottle and groan.


End file.
